


"Princess" Urie

by dannyyisme



Series: Royal Ryden/Rydon [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, F/M, M/M, Manipulation, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyyisme/pseuds/dannyyisme
Summary: George Ryan Ross the Third is the heir of the throne and his parents wish him to marry a princess of their rival kingdom. Without the Ross royalty knowing, the sister, Breezy, doesn't wish to get married to George, so she asks a favour of her brother, Brendon Boyd Urie, to dress in her clothing, her makeup, and pose as her. Though their parents are not happy with her decision, they decide to go with it because they care about what Breezy thinks and feels.How long will it take for George to realize the "princess" he's to marry is actually a prince?Will Brendon come clean?What would happen to Brendon if George's parents find out about his lie?(Originally posted and written on my Wattpad of the same name.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't realize when I wrote this so long ago that I put Brendon and Ryan into a really bad relationship. Ryan is a very manipulative person, and I didn't realize what I was writing back then.  
> I am in no way romanticizing manipulative relationships, and if you find yourself stuck in one, find help. There is always help. Whomever you have the relationship, friend-wise, partner-wise, or family-wise only has control over you if you let them.  
> Stay safe. <3

** Brendon **

 

 

_"Bren, c'mon!" My sister begged me as I helped her pack her bags for our trip. "You know that I don't even want to marry guy! I barely know him!"_

_"Like I know him any better?" I respond sounding distant and helping her fold up her elegant gowns and carefully placing them into her rhinestone luggage. I heard her sigh and she placed her diamond and sapphire encrusted tiara on top of the last dress I had folded. I glanced over at her arching a brow in confusion._

_"I'm just not happy, Brendon," She admitted so quiet I had to strain my ears to hear her voice. "I don't want to get married to George... I don't want to be the princess of Minerva, either. I just want to be Breezy..." I felt my heart break whenever I heard the raw, undoubtful truth of what she thought. I sighed heavily wondering if confiding into what Breezy was asking of me would be worth it._

_"Would Mother and Father approve?" I asked, my voice barely over a whisper. She grinned bright._

_"I'm sure we could win them over," She offered with determination in her baby blue eyes. I let a small smile form on my plump lips._

_"If this plan goes wrong in any way, this is your fault," I teased her causing her to squeal with excitement. She flung her arms around my neck and hugged me so hard the wind got knocked out of me. I hugged her back regardless of my desperate need to breathe._

_"You're the best half brother ever," She whispered in my ear causing pride to spread from my heart throughout my limbs._

_"And you're the best half sister ever," I whispered back gasping a little from lack of oxygen, "but you've knocked the wind out of me and I need to breathe!" She quickly released me and I gasped and heaved to get the air circulating in my lungs once more._

_"Sorry!" She apologized not sounding fully sorry. "I forgot you were weaker than I am."_

_"I am_ not _!" I wheezed causing her to start to giggle. "Stop laughing at me!" I whined as the air finally returns to my lungs. Her giggles eventually ceased and she hummed in thought._

_"Sorry," She began with a long sigh, "haven't laughed like that since we were kids.." I nodded solemnly and carefully removed her tiara from the suitcase before shutting it._

_"What do I need to know to be you? Aside from what I already know, that is." Her eyebrows furrowed in thought and she tapped on her red lips with her pointer finger getting a little bit of her lipstick on the tip of her finger. That seemed to give her an idea, however, because her eyes lit up._

_"Makeup!" She exclaimed rushing over to her makeup handbag. "You need to learn how to do your makeup like how I do it! And maybe contacts?" She thinks for a second stopping all movements, then returns to rummage through her bag. "Nah, the blue wouldn't show over your brown eyes.. If anything, I don't think he really knows much about me... Probably just that I'm a girl, blue eyes, and black hair.. Do we have any black-haired wigs?" She turned to me. I hesitated before shaking my head._

_"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I never paid attention to that kind of stuff. We'd have to ask Mother or Father.." She grunted a reply and turned to me holding many different types of bottles, tubes, brushes, and a hand mirror._

_"Time for business." She told me with a playful grin._


	2. Chapter 2

** Brendon **

 

 

 _"This dress is so uncomfortable," I whined tugging against the tight middle of my-_ Breezy _'s dress trying to get more room for my poor, tortured stomach. "I can barely breathe! Why did I have to wear the corset?"_

_"Brendon, stop your whining!" My father commanded causing me to fall silent. "You agreed to this, this is your own fault. And, if you would not mind, start practicing that falsetto that you love to do so much."_

_"Boyd, do be kinder," My step-mother, Anabelle, told my father gently. She placed her petite hand on his broad shoulder and kept her shining blue eyes on my father's. "You know that he's doing this for Breezy's happiness and he is dressed in women's attire with makeup caked all over his face. I am sure you wouldn't be as keen and comfortable in a corset, hm?"_

_"No, can't say that I would be," My father answered with a gentle smile. "He's brave to be doing this.. We'll just have to hope to God that he won't get caught in his lie."_

_"What do you mean?" I asked nervously just as our carriage had stopped._

_"Never mind that," Father replied smoothing down his fancy, cream coloured jacket and straightening the golden crown upon his head. "Remember-"_

_"Walk straight, falsetto, and giggle," I interrupted with a roll of my eyes. "I got it!" My father hesitated before nodding and helping Mother out of the carriage._

_As soon as my feet touched the pavement outside the carriage, I was blinded with the flash of a camera. I was about to rub my eyes, but Mother grabbed onto my arms quickly and kept me from doing so. "Breezy, you don't want to ruin your eye makeup, do you?" She tells me gently giving me a kiss on my head. "Silly girl."_

_"Silly indeed," I heard a deep, monotone voice agree. Mother turned around giving me the view of the person who had spoken. My eyes widened when he came into view. Prince George Ryan Ross the Third._

_"Prince George," Mother greeted with a courteous bow, "how lovely to meet you."_

_"Likewise, Queen Anabelle." He answered as Mother slowly stood up. His eyes turned over to me and a grin ghosted on his lips. "You must be Princess Breezy, correct?"_

_"U-um," I stuttered quietly trying to find the perfect falsetto to match Breezy's voice the best I could. "I-I am," I replied deciding to not go much higher than my natural voice. I checked over with my parents and they seemed to be pleased with my choice._

_I turned back to George and he had an odd look on his beautiful, stony features. His dark, coco brown eyebrows were furrowed and his dark, honey eyes were narrowed and flickering around as if he were trying to figure me out. It made me feel uncomfortable and bare._

_"I was under the impression that you would be a little shorter and a little more petite," He told me causing panic to constrict my chest. "And I was told you had blue eyes." I quickly tried to rack my brain for any type of excuse, but, thankfully, Father came to the rescue._

_"Breezy has a condition that causes her eyes to turn brown when she's stressed." He said calmly with a gentle pat on my shoulder. George's brow flew up again as if that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard, but Mother quickly cut in._

_"Meeting the prince of Zanahoria is quite stressful, no?" She tried with a gentle grin. "Oh, how about you take us inside and you and Breezy get to know each other while we converse with your parents?" George's eyes slowly un-narrowed, but the suspicion still danced in his beautiful irises._

_"Very well," He decided turning over towards the butler standing next to the tall golden doors concealing the inside of his home. "Patrick, take King Boyd and Queen Anabelle to my parents. I'm taking Breezy on a tour of the castle since she will be living here soon." The butler nodded with a warm grin on his lips._

_"Of course, Sir." He replied opening the door with his white gloved hands. "Shall I fetch Miss Stone to see if your mistress would like a rose from our garden?" My cheeks flushed bright with colour and I watched George wave a dismissive hand._

_"Not needed," He replied. "If I would want to give her a rose, I would take her into the garden myself." The butler, Patrick, nodded curtly._

_"Of course, Sir." He replied heaving the door open revealing beautiful, pearly, white marbled flooring with carefully stitched ruby rugs and golden designs I couldn't yet make out._

_My parents and I followed George and Patrick inside revealing all of the entrance room. I heard the door click shut behind us and my eyes were wide as I gazed around. God, it was beautiful._

_White pillars were spread about the room; some had the Zanaorian symbol, a broken time-watch, painted in bright, shimmering gold while others had what looked to be birds painted in the same shade._

_There were many giant windows that had just as giant curtains that were the most beautiful shade of fuchsia and pulled back so the natural sunlight shone in. Considering this was a tropical, sunny place, the drawn curtains did not surprise me._

_My eyes wandered to the two long, curved staircases leading up to the floor above us. I was tempted to ask how many floors there were, but I was cut off by the sound of Father whispering in my ear. "You'll do well," He told me. "I know this is going to be hard, but just know that we, including Breezy, believe in you." He kissed my head and gave me a loving smile._

_"The King and Queen are this way," Patrick announced running his fingers through his mousey brown hair. "Do you wish to say goodbye to your daughter first?" Mother gave me a kiss on my head, almost in the same spot as father, and she grinned at the butler._

_"We already said our goodbyes in the parked carriage." She replied even though it was a complete lie. He nodded and turned over to the left staircase._

_"Follow me, please." He instructed starting up the stairs. My parents quickly followed suit leaving George and I alone in silence, the only sound being their footsteps._

_I turned to my suitor and plastered on a smile that he didn't return. "Don't smile so big," He criticized causing my smile to immediately fall. "You look like an idiot. Follow me to my art/music room." He quickly retreated up the opposite staircase my parents and his butler had used. I followed suit hitching up my dress as we walked up the stairs._

_"And they say romance is dead," I muttered under my breath._

_"What was that?" He questioned turning to me, but not dropping out of step. My cheeks burn hot and I revert my gaze to the steps and my black flats._

_"N-nothing, Sir, Prince George.." I responded softly sounding a little higher than earlier. George is silent for a moment before letting out a long, aggravated sigh._

_"Just like a woman," I heard him mutter. Anger began to flare in my chest and I clenched onto my dress tighter than I should have, but I held my tongue._

_'I have to do this for my family,' I thought trying to keep my anger under control. 'I'm doing this for my sister Breezy... I'm doing this for her.'_


	3. Chapter 3

** Brendon **

 

 

_I had never seen something as beautiful as George's art/music room. There were paintings of his hanging on the walls and beautiful instruments hanging there as well looking as if they were specially made for him. Wouldn't surprise me if they were._

_"Watch your step," He warned me as he shut the door behind us. "I have unfinished songs scattered around. If you ruin the ink, I'm kicking you out."_

_"Understood," I replied quietly turning my gaze down to the floor._

_As he said, there were papers filled with words written in black ink spread about all over the brown hardwood floor. From what I could tell, his writing wasn't very neat, but it wasn't quite chicken scratch. "You write songs?" I asked glancing up to see he as tuning one of his many stringed instruments. He grunted a reply and continued plucking the strings of his beautifully constructed violin._

_"Figured you would know my hobbies,"  He said suddenly causing me to panic for a split moment._

_"I-um," I stuttered, my voice cracking from the overuse of my falsetto. He then grinned and retrieved the horsehair bow resting on the stool George was sitting on._

_"Don't worry," He told me gently running the bow over the strong strings of the violin making a beautiful note ring out and pleasing my ears. "I'm just pulling your leg, Sweetheart." My heartbeats sped up at the nickname and my cheeks grew hot._

_"'Sweetheart'?" I inquired brushing my long, black extensions off my shoulders. "Couldn't think of something less generic?" He quirked a brow and sat his violin in his black, leather case._

_"I don't know enough about you to give you a proper nickname," He replied gently placing the bow in the correct place. "Do you want me to go off looks?"_

_"Mm-hm." I answered shyly tangling my fingers onto the lace of my dress. His eyes turned to me and the flickered over my figure. I unconsciously straightened my posture even more than it already was because of the damned corset I was wearing._

_"How about 'Raven-haired Beauty'?" He suggested with a charming smirk on his lips. My cheeks became dark crimson and I shyly glanced down at my dress-covered feet._

_"I-I'm no beauty," I whispered feeling an unknown emotion fluttering in my chest. He lifted my chin and our eyes met. I saw a grin pull on his lips._

_"You're right," He answered causing my heart to drop down into my stomach. "I was just saying that to make you feel better about yourself." My eyebrows furrowed and I glared at him hard._

_"Sir," Patrick announced as he walked into the room, "I do apologize for any interruptions, but the King and Queen request a meeting with the bride to be." I pulled back from George and turned to Patrick who was pulling down and fixing his slightly astray red, gold, and blue uniform._

_"Do you know what they want?" George asked wrapping his arm around my waist. I tensed up at his touch, his hateful words swimming through my mind, but I forcibly made myself relax into his touch even though I didn't trust him, not one bit._

_"They want help arranging the engagement ball, Sir," He answered._

_"Engagement ball?" I echoed nearly dropping my falsetto. I heard George chuckle, but I didn't look at him. I couldn't stomach looking at him because of what he had said to me._

_"You act like you've never been or heard of an engagement ball," He replied amused._

_"As a matter of fact," I shot back turning a glare towards my husband-to-be, "I_ do _know what an engagement ball is. All royalty, and even people outside of royalty, know what it is. I was just surprised you would want to celebrate our soon marriage. You don't seem keen to keep me around." I crossed my arms as he sucked air through his teeth._

_"Sir, they don't wish to be kept waiting," Patrick interjected urgently. I continued to glare at George, but he wasn't glaring back at me. His face was blank so I couldn't see if he was thinking about anything, but from the situation we were in, I knew he was._

_"Alright," He decided turning to Patrick. "Take us there at once." I turned my head to see the butler nod curtly._

_"Yes, Sir." He replied quietly. "Follow me." George tightened his grip around my waist and led me after Patrick keeping step with the butler, but nearly causing me to trip in the process. That was when I fully realized the reason Breezy didn't want to marry him:_

_He is the biggest asshole._


	4. Chapter 4

**_ Brendon _ **

 

 

_"Oh, there you are!" Queen Rosalie greets us with a warm smile. "I was beginning to believe you both got lost."_

_"N-no, Queen Rosalie," I respond respectfully bowing my head._

_"Oh, call me 'Madre Rosalie'!" She responds causing my head to whip up and meet with my parent's confused looks. "You'll be married to my boy soon, so you'll be the daughter I wish I had." Before I have the chance to reply, George cut me off._

_"You had a reason for having Patrick drag us here, yes?" He asked causing Patrick to ruffle, his position shifting next to me. The queen huffs and rests her hands carefully on her knees._

_"You'll always be a bit of a brute," She retorts with a loving smile. I hear George grunt next to me and his shoes scruff on the floor._

_"Just get on with what you were going to tell us," He urges sounding urgent. "I was busy showing Princess Breezy around."_

_"Oh, hush, George," His father responds with a grunt. "You have plenty of time to show this mujer encantadora around." I try to refrain from twisting my face up in confusion, as I'm not very fluent in Spanish, and I believe I succeed as no one notices my confusion._

_"Well, get on with what you want to talk to us about!" The prince demands stomping his foot like a bratty child. The queen smiled dearly._

_"Your wedding is to be soon," She tells us causing my heart to start beating thirty times faster than normal. "We must prepare an engagement ball and invite our neighbour kingdoms to rejoice in the fact that our two rival kingdoms, Zanahoria and Minerva, are finally coming together after 20 years of feud and war into peace." I feel sweat start to prick at the back of my neck, and I brush my extensions off my shoulders gently to get some air on the wet skin._

_"What did you need us here to talk about that?" My soon-to-be husband asks sounding as monotone as ever and bored out of his mind. Queen Rosalie furrows her perfectly filled (as Breezy had taught me. I'm still new to the whole makeup slang thing.) brows and the fingers on her left hand clench gently around her right._

_"We wanted to talk themes," She answers gently. "I know how nit-picky you are about themes, George. Even at your birthday celebrations, you're never happy unless we get everything completely correct..." She cracks a small smile. "I remember on your thirteenth whenever you pushed the piano player out of the way just because he missed a note on the Happy Birthday song." I perk up a little at the mention of a piano._

_"You have a piano?" I inquire dropping my falsetto just a bit, but enough to raise a bit of concern on my parent's face. The queen doesn't seem to notice and her smile only widens._

_"Why, yes we do." She answers not hiding her glee. "Do you play?" I suddenly feel shy and my gaze drops down to the floor._

_"A little bit," I respond quietly. "I haven't played in a long while, though."_

_"You must play something for us!" The queen begs suddenly sitting up straighter in her throne. "I'm sure George would_ love _to hear you play!" I turn to see the prince looking even more bored than his tone would have shown. I decide to not let it bother me and turn back to the queen._

_"Oh, no, I'm really rusty.." I tell her. "And.. I have a tendency to sing when I play and-"_

_"You_ sing _too?!" The queen exclaims sounding overly delighted. She claps her hands excitedly and I feel my cheeks darken to red when I feel my parent's eyes glaring holes through me with 'What the ever loving fuck have you done, Brendon Boyd!' painted clearly all over their faces._

_"Th-this all got off track, did it not?" I stumble with an awkward titter afterwards. The queen seems to settle back in her seat._

_"Quite right," She says clearing her throat. "George, dear, what theme would you like for the engagement ball?"_

_"Masquerade," The prince replies without missing a beat. "Masks, suits, dresses, and not having to look at any girl's clown makeup. There is always one girl who has more makeup on her face than a whore and that is not something I'd like to see." He then turns to me and looks me over ignoring the shocked looks of my mother and father. "And I'll be personally picking out what we will be wearing, my darling."_

_"C-can't wait..." I mutter avoiding his invading gaze. I wrap my arms around my stomach feeling very self-conscious and cast nervous glances at Mother who seems to understand exactly how I feel. I now have a taste of what I'm sure women around my kingdom and other kingdoms out there go through. I shiver quietly, almost inaudibly, not liking the feeling at all. No one seems to out my discomfort, however._

_"Alright," The queen tells us quietly. "Off you go, you both." I gracefully curtsy and quickly run after George who was already two car lengths ahead of me._

_"You know how to dance, right?" He asks me once we're far away from both of our parents. I nod not trusting my voice to speak as it might shake. I hear him huff. "You better. I won't take a dumb puta who doesn't know how to dance to a masquerade. I don't care if it's for you or it's your goddamn birthday, but I will not dance with you." I hesitate for a couple seconds._

_"Well, I learned to dance whenever I was seven," I answer quietly. "It was the ball my parents were throwing because it was their anniversary.." I smile softly. "I got to dance with my mother and with my father.. They taught me how to waltz." He scoffed._

_"Let's hope you can dance as well as you can run your mouth." He retorts causing my smile to drop immediately and anger to stir up into my gut. "Just like a woman." He grumbled starting to walk further away from me._

_I stop in my tracks and clench my fists. I shake my head to keep tears from forming in my eyes and take a couple relieving breaths. I feel my muscles relax, and I soon start to return my route of following the bratty prince I had to marry in two weeks._


	5. Chapter 5

** Brendon **

 

 

 

_I feel more than happy whenever I step naked in the shower. My corset is resting on the floor along with my dress, tights, shoes, bra (with those jell things that you stuff your bra with if you want bigger boobs, but are too poor for surgery), and my extensions are carefully laid out on the counter._

_I carefully wash the makeup off of my chest (the boob contouring to give the illusion of me actually having boobs even though I obviously don't) and sigh content at the feeling of the warm water running down my bare body._

_"Miss Breezy," I hear Patrick through my bathroom door, "I have brought you a nightgown to wear from your suitcase if you don't mind. Would you like me to bring it in?" I freeze up whenever the door starts to open._

_"J-just leave it on my bed, please!" I exclaim, my voice cracking terribly. The door handle stops turning and there is a heavy silence._

_"As you wish." He tells me letting the knob return to its normal position._

_I sigh of relief whenever I hear his departing footsteps. It was a close call. Too close._

_I turn the water off and I step out wiping the water out of my slightly blurry eyes. I wonder briefly if I had my glasses with me, but then I remembered I was left with Breezy's suitcase and a pair of new contacts that I had taken out already. I decide to shut the cap of my contact case and keep them next to the tap so I can retrieve them in the morning._

_I lightly towel myself off with the white, fluffy towels Patrick had left on the left of the sink for me and wrap it tightly around my chest in case I will have a surprise visit in my bedroom._

_I quickly put in my extensions after giving them a gentle wash (so no one will ask why the top half of my hair is wet and the bottom half isn't) and pull my hair back into a ponytail as I have seen Breezy do many times before._

_I open the door releasing all the leftover steam and step into my bedroom which is, thankfully, attached to my bathroom. I don't have to worry about leaving my bedroom to shower and get caught by anyone-- or, well, unless they're a servant or Patrick._

_I pad quietly over to my bed and see a beautiful, black nightgown with lace over the chest area and long fabric that I hypothesize will go down to my knees considering mine and Breezy's height difference. I drop my towel and pick up the gown._

_I hear the door behind me open and I quickly fling the gown on along with the first pair of underwear I could find, but the underwear squeezes at my ass and leaves the tip of my dick pressed hard against my stomach. I am_ very _uncomfortable._

_"Miss Breezy?" I hear Patrick ask me. "Prince George wishes for you both to spend the night together. Is that okay?" I quickly check to make sure the gown material isn't see-through and I cross my arms over my chest as I turn to face the butler._

_"Does he promise to not act like a bigot?" I retort furrowing my eyebrows. He sighs and shrugs his shoulders._

_"He doesn't believe there is anything wrong with his behaviour," He replies scratching the back of his neck. "You get used to it. Trust me. I've worked here since the previous butler had been fired.." His voice falls down into a whisper halfway through his sentence._

_"Patrick.." I whisper a little hesitant. "I.. Well, I don't feel comfortable with the way he has been eyeing me... And I know for a fact he won't like what he'd see under my gown."_

_"Miss Breezy," Patrick begins looking me in the eye, "to say such things about yourself is unacceptable." My eyes widen a little, and I drop my gaze to the floor._

_"George_ really _wouldn't like what I have to offer," I reply truthfully shifting my weight on both of my bare feet. "And, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to put underwear on." I look up at him and grin at his blushing face._

_"I-indeed," He responds quickly and turning his head to look away from me. "Wh-what would you like me to tell Prince George about his offer?" I think for a moment before sighing._

_"Let him in," I answer._

_~*~_

_I wake to the feeling of warmth around my body. I stir a bit and feel hands rest on my chest. My eyes widen and I smack at the hands earning a disappointed groan from my offender. I pull away from the warmth and get out of bed not feeling drowsy from waking up any longer._

_I see George staring at me with a weird look on his face; it felt a bit unnerving. I turn to my suitcase resting on the floor and bend over to unzip the bag to retrieve a gown. "I don't think I ever want you to unpack," I hear George remark. "Seeing you like this makes me hope that I can see you digging in your luggage more often." My cheeks flare red and my body shoots up straight so I am no longer bent forward. I glare at George and feel disgusted at his smirk._

_"Don't look at me like that!" I hiss causing his smirk to only deepen._

_"You were begging for me in your sleep," He tells me sounding cocky. "You were begging for me to touch you and please you. I'm surprised your panties are dry." I shiver in disgust and scrunch up my nose._

_"I had a dream about my dog before he died," I reply quietly, my falsetto fading slowly. Something flickers in his eyes and he stands up no longer looking like a smug pervert that was undressing me with his eyes only moments before._

_"I'll leave you to get dressed," He tells me promptly quickly walking to the door. "I'll send Patrick to bring you breakfast if you wish to eat alone." My eyes widen and I gaze at him in confusion looking for any trace of mischief, but there is none; the only thing I notice different in his charming honey eyes is a hint of grief in his irises._

_"Thank you," I whisper nodding my head curly. "But I wish to spend breakfast with your mother, if that isn't any trouble." He seems to think for a moment before nodding._

_"Patrick can take you to my mother after you're dressed and ready." He tells me opening the door. "Get ready quickly, though. Patrick walks fast." And with that, he leaves._

_I grab a beautiful, plain, baby blue dress and matching stockings as quickly as I can (leaving a giant mess as I had completely dumped the suitcase on the floor) along with a pair of black, lacy underwear that give enough room for both my junk and my ass, which, in my opinion, looks really good in this pair. I take a mental note to wear them more often._

_I dash into the bathroom and quickly try to recreate my boob contour from the day before (which was surprisingly almost perfect). I slip on the bra and stuff in the gel thingies afterwards shivering at how cold they felt against my skin._

_After I slip on my dress, I pull my hair out of the ponytail, but I made it too tight and it ripped my extensions out. Right then, the door to my bathroom swung open and in walked none other than Patrick the butler._

_"Miss Breezy, I'm here to-" Our eyes met and his widen clouding in fear. His eyes travel from my fake breasts to my ripped out ponytail and back to my eyes. Realization flickers over his face and he stays silent for a long while. As do I._

_After around 8 or so minutes of silence, I break it with a small, broken laugh. "This is what I get for wanting to help my sister," I say dropping my falsetto completely. "It has only been about a day and here I am caught by the butler.." Concern and pity flood into Patrick's expression._

_"You were trying to help your sister?" He asks me to which I nod. A small grin flickers on his lips. "You were willing to risk everything for your sister?" I nod again._

_"Queen Rosalie is expecting me, isn't she?" I ask suddenly becoming aware of how late I possibly am. Patrick shakes his head and walks up to me taking the ponytail out of my hands._

_"I'm not going to let you go anywhere without giving you a little bit of help." He concludes carefully untangling the extensions. "I know quite a bit about makeup. How else do you think the queen looks her best all the time?"_

_"You do her makeup?" I ask in awe. He grins and nods setting the extensions and the holder onto the counter._

_"I do," He answers giving me a signal to turn around. I do so. He ponders for a second. "Do you wish to cut the extensions a bit and tell them that you asked me to give you a haircut? The extensions are all the way to your back Mi-um.. Who are you, by the way?"_

_"Brendon Urie," I answer looking at the mirror. "And, yes, cut the extensions to my shoulders, please?" I see his reflection nod and he carefully puts the extensions back into my hair. "Wait, don't you need scissors?" I ask resting my hands on the counter. I see his reflection grin and he pulls a pair of golden scissors from his pocket._

_"I always carry these around," He answers taking some of my ends into his hands. "Just in case the queen requests Prince George needs a haircut. Or her herself needs one. Happens more than you'd think."  I giggle, and he chuckles himself cutting the extensions to the requested length._

_I let him curl my hair and do all of my makeup for me. I feel a sense of security with Patrick, something I don't think I will feel for George. At least, not for awhile._

_I smile whenever I see my reflection in the mirror. I look absolutely stunning with my red lip, dusty pink cheeks, black and red eye shadow perfectly blended together, and with perfectly sharp eyeliner Breezy would be jealous of. However, he didn't touch my eyebrows. "Your eyebrows don't need a touch-up," He tells me, but frowns. "You have a scar on your eyebrow too. What happened?"_

_"I was learning to sword fight with my father," I answer with a small smile. "I wasn't paying attention and I got myself in the face. Everything else healed up, but that eyebrow scar will always be there." He nods and gives me a small, reassuring smile._

_"Ready for breakfast with the mother-in-law?" He asks me holding out his arm. I take his arm and grin._

_"Born ready," I answer in my falsetto._


	6. Chapter 6

** Brendon **

 

 

 

_I don't like the dreams I have here in this bedroom alone. They're all about me being killed if I am found out about. They're very unnerving._

_On the off chance of me not dreaming about my own murder, I have dreams about my and George's wedding. We don't have vows, so we just have to go with the "Will you have and hold her/him through sickness and in health," yada, yada, yada. It always ends at the same place, however. Right before we kiss._

_I'm always lost in my thoughts as the days run through, so I have time to think about and analyze my nightmares and the dreams of the wedding. So far, I've come up dry. I can't think of any reason to why I would be dreaming about the wedding, but I am scared of how the Queen, King, and George will react to me not being a woman._ _I sigh quietly into my afternoon tea and close my eyes, my fake lashes tickling the apples of my cheekbones._

_"Something bothering you?" Patrick asks me as he walks into my private study. It used to be King George's, but he gave it to me to give me a safe space to be myself and work on private projects. I shrug and set my plain pink teacup on the matching platter and onto the wooden desk._

_"Just thinking," I answer quietly. "Then again, I'm always thinking." I look at him and see a blank look in his usually emotional baby blue eyes._

_"Prince George wishes to spend the day with you today," He tells me causing my eyes to widen. "He says he wants to get to know you since you will be getting married, and he would like to apologize for his rude behaviour." I narrow my eyes._

_"Is that a true apology, or is he just saying that so he can gain my trust and fuck with my feelings?" I retort crossing my arms. He sighs and collects the teacup and platter placing it on the giant silver platter he has on his left hand containing what I recognized to be the Queen's floral set._

_"I'm unsure," He tells me truthfully. "But I have already sent him here. He said he plans to take you into the garden and give you a proper tour of it since you haven't been there yet."_

_"'The garden'?" I ask slowly uncrossing my arms. "You said something about a garden whenever I arrived, didn't you?" He nods._

_"Indeed I did," He answers. "Miss Stone is our gardener. She knows the most about the flowers and which season to plant them in. The only flowers that actually grow well here in our garden are the Amazon Lilies, Decorative Dahlias, and the Morning Glories. We had some white roses, but they barely budded in the ground."_

_"Roses thrive well in tropical climate," I answer matter-of-factly. "Either Miss Stone has no idea how to grow white roses, or you didn't have the right seeds!"_

_"Don't let Lila hear you say that," I hear George's familiar monotone voice express as he walks into my study. "She'll go about spouting off the scientific names for flowers from the top of her head; she won't stop until you admit she knows everything about flowers."_

_"She'd run out of flower names eventually, no?" I counter quickly changing my voice into my falsetto and keeping a steady, challenging glare on his amused eyes._

_"She would," He answers, "but she's a bit of a sore loser and she'd start renaming flowers she had already named. She doesn't count on you remembering them all."_

_"Well," I begin standing up, "looks like Miss Stone has a bit of competition, no?" A smile forms on his lips._

_"Maybe so." He answers taking a couple steps over to me. I tense up my muscles, but try to regain my composure and not show how much of an effect he has on me. "But we'll just see how smart you are then, hm?"_

_"I guess so," I shoot back crossing my arms over my chest._

_"Prince George," Patrick says getting George's attention. "Would you like me to take you to the garden?"_

_"I want us to go alone," He responds giving me an odd look. I hear Patrick hesitate a little then let out a long sigh._

_"As you wish, Sir." He answers quietly. He then leaves giving me a reassuring brush of the arm making sure that to the prince it would look like an accident. George payed Patrick no mind, thankfully._

_"Now," George tells me as an uncomfortable feeling settles in my gut, "shall we make way to the garden?" I let out an uncomfortable laugh and nod._

_"Indeed we shall," I answer dropping my arms from my chest._

_We step out of my study (I making sure to shut the door behind me) and start on our way through the giant, shiny halls on search for the door to the garden._

_I suddenly become excruciatingly aware of how hot and sweaty my skin feels under my corset and how the used-to-be coolness of the fillers are now hot and uncomfortable against my skin. Despite the week of my being here, I still am not used to the hot tropical environment of Zanchoria. It makes me long for the cooler, rainy weather of Minerva._

_It hasn't rained once since my arrival, and Patrick has told me there is usually a lot of rain, but it feels like a wet desert._

_When we arrive at the door to the garden, I'm struck with awe at how beautiful the garden looks through the glass of the fancy golden door. "That's not even half of the garden," He says causing my mouth to drop open._ _He opens the door, and I gingerly close my mouth as the sound of Lovebirds chirping fills my ears._

_We step out side-by-side into the hot, sticky air and I see a few Rosy-faced Lovebirds fly around with their partners. George takes no mind to them or their chattering; he leads me down the maze-like path of the garden._

_As Patrick told me in the study, there are Amazon Lilies littered carefully down our shady pathway and beautiful grass arches with Morning Glories carefully growing inside, their vines wrapping carefully and blending into the colour of the grass arch, holding their radiant beauty in the lack of downpour._

_We pass by a patch of of Alpine Asters, and I notice they're wilting a bit. I dig into my flower knowledge and remember they cannot live in hot and humid climates. I feel the need to ask George when the last time it had rained here was, but I realize he's still walking and not even looking at the poor, dying flowers. I sigh and follow him wondering if the flowers will even live by the end of the season._

_The next wave of flowers we pass by are the one and only African Moons. They, along with the Amazon Lilies, Morning Glories, and Decorative Dahlias, look to be thriving in the lack of rain that has happened in the last week. I hope that is a signal of someone watering them as Morning Glories need to be watered daily and often._

_"We're almost there," He tells me holding out his hand letting a Rosy-faced Lovebird land onto it. "I hope you're hungry."_

_"I'm not," I answer continuing to march on, "but can we hurry this up? I want to go back to my study."_

_"You mean the study my father gave to you?" He retorts suddenly starting to quicken his pace. "You mean the study that_ I _was supposed to have, but_ you _got it even though you don't do shit?!" I stay silent as his voice gets louder as he continues to rant on and on about how I am 'worthless' and how I 'don't deserve everything his father gave me.'_

_We arrive upon a small, wooden table with a beach parasol on it to give some shade. There is a little picnic set up; a white tea set, a white platter with little biscuits just like the ones I would get for tea time in Minerva, and a little bowl of something I couldn't identify._

_I sit at the table and carefully brush down my dress ignoring the sweat pooling up in my underwear. I gently wipe away the sweat from my face off with a napkin from the pile of napkins in the middle of the table and look in dismay as some of my makeup from my face has run off. I decide to just wipe the rest of it off because the sweat isn't worth it._

_"You have freckles?" George asks me as the sun starts to shine against my now bare, sweaty face. I shrug sheepishly and set the napkin down._

_"I do." I tell him. "I like to cover them up so no one sees them."_

_"I don't like them," He says causing me to shrink down in the seat as much as I can with the corset squeezing at my figure. "They make you look messy. And sit up straight. It's not ladylike to slouch."_

_"Who are you, my mother?!" I snap causing the nearby birds to flutter away in shock. I heave and glare hard at George who doesn't seem to be phased by my reaction._

_"Are you on your monthly due?" He asks me pouring some tea into his cup. "If so, try to keep your mood swings under control. No one wants to be around a bitch who doesn't know how to control her feelings."_

_"If this was your attempt to make it up with me," I tell him coldly, "you're doing a God-awful job of it."_

_"So it seems," He says taking a sip. "But it's not my fault you're hormonal."_

_"_ I am not hormonal! _" I exclaim standing up abruptly. "You are a complete ass and I don't see why your parents haven't fucking thrown you out yet!"_

_"Because I am heir to the throne," He answers returning my glare. "And you are going to marry me unless you want more innocent people to die in your kingdom." I flinch a little and cross my arms over my chest._

_"Just because you're upset about having to get married to me, doesn't mean that you have to act like such an ass." I tell him quietly. Something flickers in his irises and he suddenly breaks away from our glare-down._

_"Maybe it's just because it's how I act to everyone," He answers causing the fire in my stomach to slowly flicker out and make my heart feel heavy in my chest. He sounds so sad and it's breaking me._

_"George-"_

_"Can you please not call me that?" He asks raising his voice a little making me jump. "I-I hate it... People always expect me to be just as good as my father, but.. It's so hard, you know?"_

_"I do," I answer quietly dropping my falsetto a little. "Believe me, I know.." He laughs ruefully._

_"I doubt so." He says keeping his gaze on the table. "I.. I always have wanted to be as good of a ruler as my father, but I don't think I ever will.. I am George Ryan Ross the Third, son of George Ryan Ross the second." He lets out a long sigh. "I.. I don't know. Ignore me." I hesitate before nodding slowly._

_"What would you like me to call you then?" I ask gently gaining George's attention. A small smile forms on his lips._

_"Ryan," He answers suddenly sitting up straighter. "Patrick calls me that whenever we're in private." I smile a little and drop my arms._

_"Ryan it is," I answer gently._

_After we fall silent, the Lovebirds begin to sing and chat to each other causing the tense atmosphere to slowly fade away. I take a seat once more and pour myself some tea. "What kind of tea is this?" I ask after setting the teapot down._

_"Decaffeinated Earl Grey," He answers taking a sip from his cup. "It's a personal favourite of my mother's. I figured you would have appreciated it." I smile and take a sip._

_"I do," I answer, "but it's a bit bitter, isn't it?"_

_"Do you prefer your tea with sugar?" Ge-_ Ryan _asks me raising a brow. "I've never been one to have sugared tea. Guess it just matches my bitter personality." I giggle at his joke, and he cracks a smile._

_"You're not bitter," I say dropping a sugar cube into my tea. "You're just really bad at expressing yourself."_

_"Maybe so," He says taking another sip._

_"Would you mind if I take my fake eyelashes off?" I ask. "They're kind of annoying and I don't have any other makeup on."_

_"I guess," He says sounding nonchalant. "I don't see why you put eyelashes on in the first place. Your eyelashes are fine." My cheeks burn lightly and I duck my head._

_"Are you being truthful?" I ask shyly carefully peeling off the lashes._

_"I am," He says causing my cheeks to burn brighter._

_I set the lashes onto the table and turn up to see something swimming in his charming eyes. I feel a pleasant tingling in my body and I realize that for the first time since I have arrived, I'm having a pleasant time with the most arrogant prince I have ever met._

_It's nice._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if the French isn't completely correct! This was before I started taking French, and I'm not far enough in my studies to be able to correct any of this, so just cut me some slack. Yeah? :')

** Brendon **

 

 

 _It seems like only a few minutes pass before I'm being fitted for my engagement ball dress, but it has only been a week and two days. The ball is later on tonight, but my dress, according to Ge-_ Ryan _, isn't going to have a lot of fabric to make. I don't look forward to when I see the actual dress. At all._

_Queen Rosalina keeps me company as I'm getting my fittings done, however. She supplies me with small talk._

_When the tailor kneels down to measure my legs, I suddenly feel nervous. I know I had already tucked everything in (Patrick used to be a drag queen and he taught me a thing or two about tucking), I was still worried about her finding something that shouldn't belong._

_"Miss, are you alright?" She asks me, her accent reminding me of home. "You're shaking like a leaf!"_

_"J-just a bit odd to have a woman see this part of me," I answer in a half-assed lie. The woman seems to pick up on it, but she seems to decide to drop it for now._

_"Well,_ someone _must measure you," She says returning to her measuring. "I don't see how you get your clothes otherwise." I don't reply, but I take caution to subtly cover my crotch just in case._ _When my fittings were finally finished after three hours are waiting, I'm sent back to my room with my new dress._

_Geo- **Ryan**  is there waiting for me lying on the bed. He looks fairly bored and he's toying with something I can't make out; I'm not wearing my contacts, so a lot of things are pretty blurry._

_I watch his figure sit up, and I hold my new dress over my mostly bare body. I give him an awkward laugh. "I can't really see you right now," I tell him, my falsetto faltering. "I didn't have time to put contacts in this morning before I had to go into my fitting for my dress."_

_"You can't see me?" He inquires obviously sounding confused._

_"You're all blurry," I reply with a small giggle. "If you come closer, I could see you. But beware. I'm completely naked in the face. Don't want you to get scared by my freckles." I can't tell if he is amused by my joke, but I sure as hell am._

_I see his figure rise and slowly come closer to me. As he inches closer, his features slowly get less blurry, and I'm able to decipher more of the beautiful details of his face; every crease, his dimple as he smiles (something I don't see very often), it's all him._

_"I found something in the garden," He says holding up a small, velvet box. "It isn't very big since it was a flower that Lila didn't grow very well.. I think she might have forgotten about it.. But I wanted you to have it since you seem to really like flowers." I raise an eyebrow, but I lift the top of the top off of the box. I gasp and cover my mouth with the lid and my hands at shock of what I find inside the box._

_"A white rose..."_

_//_

_"How much longer till this is over?" I ask Ryan with a gentle nudge. He ponders for a moment before turning to me._

_"You still have yet to meet Prince Spencer Smith," He answers brushing his hand over mine. I feel something stir in my stomach, but I ignore it for the time being._

_"I've heard of him," I answer truthfully. "He's the prince of Candidus, right?" He grins at me._

_"Indeed he is," He answers. "The name is Latin for 'snowy,' which fits his kingdom, doesn't it?"_

_"It does," I confirm. "It's always so cold out there, but it's better than the drought we've been having here."_

_"Prince Jonathon said it was sprinkling during his arrival," Ryan answers. I hum, acknowledging his response, and brush my hair out of my face._

_"I'm used to cold and rain," I tell him with a shy smile. "I'm not really used to all this heat. I'll lie naked in the garden when it rains so I can cool down." His eyes widen so big that they look like they'll fall out of his face, and my cheeks darken into a bright shade of pink._

_"Maybe I'll join you," He says, his voice an octave lower than usual. I cough and duck my head to look at the floor._

_"M-maybe so," I stutter, my voice cracking terribly. I brush my hair behind my ear and feel my fingers brush against the white rose I was given. It made me feel all warm and tingly inside._

_We stand in awkward silence before I hear the sound of dress shoes approaching us. "Ah, Spencer!" I hear Ryan greet the stranger in front of us. I keep my eyes down as they start talking about how their lives have been since they have last seen each other, which has apparently been quite a while._

_"I'm King now!" The man named Spencer says sounding excited. "I got married to Linda-"_

_"Wasn't she the peasant girl that we played with as kids?" My soon-to-be husband asks peaking my interest._

_"Yep," The now king answers sounding smug. "She's my beautiful, blushing bride."_

_"What happened to your parents?" I ask quietly not wanting to meet his eyes. The conversation falls flat and the tension suddenly becomes so thick I could barely breathe._

_I slowly look up meeting the cold, scary glare of the new king of Candidus. He looks to have remorse swimming in his icy eyes and his lips are curled down into a deep frown. I fear to have upset him._

_"They died on a trip to Ambustus," He states causing my heart to drop into my stomach. "Some arvinae, buccae ran into their carriage and they died on contact."_

_"'Arvinae buccae'..?" I inquire arching a brow._

_"Fat fool," The king replies crossing his arms over his chest and scoffs. "How have you not taught her anything about the other kingdoms, Ry?"_

_"In her defense," Ryan says gently, "She is from Minerva." He and Spencer share a weird look. I feel anger bubble in my stomach._

_"What does being from Minerva have to deal with anything?!" I hiss clenching my fingers into a tight fist._

_"Minerva is as closed off as a prostitute on her period." The King retorts causing me to become even more furious._

_"It's not_ our _fault that Minerva has to remain on its own!" I defend feeling greatly betrayed by the man I was supposed to marry, the man who I was beginning to feel like I could trust. "It's not our fault that kingdoms from far and wide are trying to take over! We're trying our best to keep our people safe, and it's people like you that keep us from having a good reputation!" I stop, heaving and full of angst. They're both staring at me wide-eyed. My falsetto has completely dropped by now, and I feel so beyond angry that I'm sure you could see steam forming out of my ears._

_"Control your woman, Ryan." Spencer spits causing it to officially push me over the edge. I swing my fist at the new king's jaw hitting him dead-on. I feel pain shoot throughout my knuckles, my hand, and even up my arm. I hear the disgusting sound of his jaw popping under my will and the startled gasps of people around us._

_The king looks at me in shock and dismay after I attacked him. I'm still heaving heavy, but my anger is slowly dissipating away. "You don't mess with Minerva," I tell him, low and dangerous._

_"Who are you?" I hear Ryan ask me quietly. I turn to him with wide eyes and it finally settles in my mind what I had done._

_"Ry, I-"_

_"Who the_ fuck _are you?!" He demands, his brow furrowed into a tight-knit line and fear speckled in his eyes. I let out a long sigh and slowly take apart my disguise:_ _I pull out my extensions, I pull out my jell boob-fillers, I (with a lot of struggle) unclip and take off my bra along with my sister's crown._

_"My name is Brendon Urie, Prince of Minerva," I answer feeling relieved to have my voice back to normal after all the hours of it being high-pitched. "Breezy Urie is my sister. She didn't want to marry George, so I offered to take her place."_

_"This is treason!" I hear a voice in the crowd exclaim. "This is beyond treason! For all we know he could be a Minervian spy here to kill us all! You saw what he did to the new king of Candidus! We are not safe with him here!" I look at Ryan in a pleading manner, but all traces of care and affection for me are completely gone._

_"Take him to the holding room." He says coldly. "I'll deal with him and his treason later. And as a result of this, I am calling warfare against Minerva." I feel my heart drop down into my stomach and I feel a strong sense of worry for my parents' safety._

_"Au revoir, Tranny," I hear someone hiss in my ear with a slight Minervian accent and grab harshly on my elbow. "You're going where you belong!"_

_"I'm sorry," I hear Patrick's familiar voice whisper in my other ear. He grabs my other arm more gently than the former. "I can't help you anymore.." I hang my head in shame and let myself be dragged to the holding room, my sister's crown still firmly held in my hand._

_"I have failed you, Breezy," I whisper feeling tears form in my eyes, "I am so sorry.."_

_"Shut up!" The man with the accent of my parent's kingdom exclaims to me._

_When we reach the holding cell, Patrick leaves me alone with the stranger. His originally hateful nature seems to melt away and he rests his hand on the pocket of his coat. "Il s'agit d'un signe de la miséricorde. Je suis ton ami, pas votre ennemi. J'ai été envoyé ici pour vous donner un message. Je vous dirai plus tard. Longue vie à Minerva." He then winks at me and leaves me alone in the room._

_For all of those who don't know French, I will give you a translation:_

_This is a sign of mercy. I am your friend, not your enemy. I have been sent here to give you a message. I will tell you later. Long live Minerva._

_I begin to ponder at what he means by the message, but then I am thrown into the terrifying thought of my sister being in trouble._

_I'm brought out of my thoughts at the sound of a light knocking on the door. I see what looks to be a small envelope slid under the door. I hesitantly walk over to it and pick up the letter recognizing the decoration to be like the ones Breezy has; it even smells like her._ _I plop on the hard, uncomfortable bed and carefully tear it open._

_The paper folded inside is made of a material not common in Minerva. It is made out of mulberry trees, something that must have been very hard to get. I carefully unfold the paper and smile as I see Breezy's familiar, cursive writing that makes me long to hug her one last time._

_The letter read:_

_**Brendon:** _

**_Minerva fait pire depuis que vous avez laissé. Je dois fuir tout le chemin à moh dans l'espoir de ne pas se faire tuer dans ce gâchis._ **

**_Je vous souhaite que bonne chance avec le prince._ **

**_Amour,_ **

**_Breezy_ **

_And, once again, for those who do not speak French, I will give a translation:_

_Brendon:_

_Minerva is doing worse since you have left. I have to flee all the way to Gurges in the hopes of not getting killed._

_I wish you luck with the prince._

_Love,_

_Breezy._

_"Gurges," I mutter to myself in distaste. "Of course it has to be in Candidus.." I carefully put the letter back into the envelope and sigh squirming out of my dress now that I don't have a reason to wear it anymore. I wipe my makeup off (or at least I think I did) with the thin bedsheets._

_I flop back on the bed spreading my limbs out in a starfish position feeling a small bit comfortable in my black, lacy panties that actually matched my bra. I have half a mind to go completely naked, but I decide to save the embarrassment of myself and whoever can enter the room._

_I close my eyes and sigh as all the memories of myself and Ryan together, both the good and bad. I already miss it. I feel behind my ear and feel a state of panic whenever I realize the rose is gone. "I must have dropped it whenever I hit Spencer," I conclude quietly feeling a heavy supply of tears flow freely down my cheeks._

_I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and feel my consciousness slowly slip away as I cry myself into a dreamless sleep._


	8. Chapter 8

** Brendon **

 

 

_The holding room is unbearably hot. I'm completely stripped down, not even caring about whomever could walk in, and I'm lying starfish style on my stomach. I can feel sweat running down my bare body and it pooling around my chest, torso, and maybe in my dick area. I realize quickly that the hair growing down there only makes matters worse, but I am also thankful I remembered to trim it before the engagement ball._

_I faintly hear a knock on the door and the sound of the hinges squeaking as it is pushed open. "Alright, I have a question for-" The voice stops as soon as it starts. I slowly sit up and turn to them feeling my face burn bright out of embarrassment._

_The familiar honey eyes don't quite meet mine. I notice he is looking over my form as if he were trying to analyze his pray. I shiver at the thought, but he doesn't seem to notice._

_I pull my knees to my chest and lean against the burning hot walls. "It's really hot in here," I mutter into my knees. I hear him walk forward, and I feel the bed move, but it's barely even fallible since the bed is stiff as a board._

_"Who are you?" He inquires sounding firm. I look up at him confused, and he has determination flaring in his deep, honey eyes. "I want the truth. Are you a spy? Are you here to harm my people?"_

_"I am Brendon Urie, prince of Minerva." I answer truthfully. "Breezy is my sister, and I only did this to protect her. She didn't want to marry you-"_

_"But why wouldn't she want to marry me?" He interrupts me sounding very offended. "I'm George Ryan Ross the Third!"_

_"You're arrogant." I state simply. "You're.. Well, you're just an asshole, really." Hurt seems to trickle in his eyes, but it quickly passes._

_"Whatever," He grumbles glaring down at the ground. I let my legs fall down against the stiff bed, and I cross my arms over my chest._

_"So does this mean I'm free to go, or are you going to keep me here?" I ask sounding snotty and annoyed. He turns to me in surprise, but he tries to mask it with the furrowing of his eyebrows._

_"You're not going anywhere." He tells me firmly. "If your sister isn't going to marry me, you are." I raise a brow at him._

_"What?" I inquire resting my hands on my knees. "Why?"_

_"Because, unless you haven't noticed, I have the power to completely destroy your country since your parents are so fucking incompetent they can't even hire good soldiers to protect their land!"_

_"Hey!" I exclaim harshly causing him to jump a little. "You can say whatever the fuck you want about me, and I let you get away with saying shit about my sister even though you've never fucking met her, but if you say_ anything _about my homeland and my parents in a negative way, I will beat you down just like I beat up Spencer. And no more shitting on my sister either. Got that?!" He's silent._ _We glare at each other for what feels like hours and, eventually, Ryan breaks away looking troubled in the face._

_"Got it," He whispers standing up. "I won't talk shit about your family or your homeland anymore. I just.. Please marry me?" I look at him quizzically as he begins to tear up. "I'm tired of being alone.. I'm tired of having to sleep alone in my bed with no chance of being loved by anyone. Just.. Please marry me..?"_

_"Will you call off the war on Minerva?" I ask him quietly. He nods solemnly and looks at me with puppy eyes that make my heart melt. I let out a long sigh and turn my gaze down to the floor. "Fine." I answer quietly. "For Minerva.. And for Breezy."_

_//_

_I feel a sense of nostalgia as I'm slipped into my wedding dress. They know now that I'm not a woman, but there wasn't enough time to make me a suit. They give me apologetic glances as the veil is carefully placed on my head and the see-through, white fabric is lain over my face. I feel comfortable in my dress, however, since they used really soft fabrics._

_They hand me a bouquet of white roses, and I feel tears prick at my eyes at the memory of my lost rose. I suck it up and take the bouquet holding it close to my chest._

_"Are you sure you want to do this, Son?" My father asks me, his piercing blue eyes cutting through my soul. I nod simply._

_"I am doing this for Breezy," I say. I take a long, deep breath and whisper, "And for the safety of the people of Minerva.. Mother stayed back to watch over things, right?" He grins at me calling Anabelle my mother and nods._

_"Indeed she has," He answers gently patting my arm. "I know Anabelle is going to do a great job of watching over Minerva. She was really looking forward to seeing you get married, but she is just as happy looking over the people." I nod and let a small smile form on my lips._

_"I'm sure my mother is proud of her for taking good care of us." Something flickers in his eyes, and I suddenly don't feel so sure of myself anymore. He forces a grin and pats my back somewhat comfortingly._

_"I'm sure she would be," He says not sounding so sure himself._

_The bridal march begins to play as we take our place. My arm is linked with my father's and everyone in the pews stands turning to look at us. I keep my eyes on Ryan, however, and notice that he seems to be fidgeting about._

_My dad gives me a kiss on my veil-covered cheek and leaves to take his seat in the pews whenever I am an arms length away from Ryan. I step up to my place and let out a shaky sigh whenever the priest asks everyone to take their seats._

_"Dearly beloved," The man begins causing me to grip tighter onto my flowers, "we are gathered here today to commence the marriage of Prince George Ryan Ross the Third and Princess-" He looks at me and makes a small face before clearing his throat. "_ Prince _Brendon Boyd Urie."_ _He turns to Ryan who looks scared out of his mind. "Do you, George Ryan Ross the Third, take Brendon Boyd Urie to have, and to hold; in sickness, and in health; to be his lawfully wedded husband until death do you part?" I see Ryan hesitate for a moment._

_"I do." He says causing a flood of 'aww's to erupt from the crowd. The priest then turns to me._

_"Do you, Brendon Boyd Urie, take George Ryan Ross the Third to have, and to hold; in sickness, and in health; to be his lawfully wedded husband until death do you part?" I glance over at Ryan, then back at the priest._

_"I do." I answer tightening my already death-grip on my flowers. The priest seems to smile a bit._

_"I now pronounce you King and Queen," He says giving me a playful wink at the 'queen' part causing both me and the crowd to burst into a fit of giggles. "You may now kiss the groom."_

_I take a hesitant step towards Ryan, and he does the same for me. The ring bearer hands us our rings with a small smile, and she dashes away as if she would ruin this moment by standing too close._

_I take Ryan's hand in mine and carefully slip his golden wedding band onto his ring finger. He takes my hand in his and carefully slips my thin, diamond ring onto my ring finger. He then pecks my lips after carefully moving my veil back behind my head causing a light pink to flush over my cheeks._

_We run out of the chapel hand-in-hand and climb into our carriage. I enjoy the feeling of his hand in mine and my mind is buzzing with activity. All I can seem to think is, "Holy shit, I'm married." Ryan gives me a gentle hand squeeze and I feel myself relax a little._

_This is the end of an era._

_ End _


End file.
